Gold and Silver
by Ninui-Ithil
Summary: Two immortals fated to be by the Valar themselves but will they be brave enough to accpet this love and risk heartache? LegolasElrohir slash
1. Mae Govannen 1: In Love and War

Taur Galen was unusually quiet. No birdsong could be heard for miles, even to the acute senses of Edhil ears. The small party passed as shadows through the trees; their very footfalls inaudible; their breathing hardly disturbing the air around them. Hoods enshrouding their faces in a mask of darkness; they slipped through the many trees imperceptibly.

They carried on thusly for what seemed hours, but in reality was only a matter of minutes. The sharp snapping sound of a twig could be heard to echo throughout the woods, and within seconds the party were at the ready for battle; arrows fitted to bows and swords at the ready.

At the signal their arrows flew; bows singing as one. All hit their marks; and, in synchrony developed over centuries of practice, the hunters descended to the floor below; swords drawn and knives glinting in the afternoon sun. The clash of metal broke the silence as the elves erupted into the fray of orcs below; the orc numbers already vastly lessened by the fire of arrows. But still the enemy outnumbered the elves, and the battle would be perilous.

And so it began. The Edhil warriors were by far the more skilled; their dangerously fragile and ethereal appearances belying and hiding their immense strength and agility. Ducking and weaving; thrusting and parrying; the fighting continued with neither side seeming to gain any advantage.

Within the chaos, two Edhil warriors fought side by side; back to back; neither one moving away from the other for more than a few moments at a time. Their hoods thrown back in the frantic battle; their dark hair tinged red with blood; their faces a mask of determination and pure disgust they were a beacon of hope in the otherwise desolate circumstances.

They moved with such harmonious ability that their technique could be compared to dancing; their movements at once sharp and dangerous, yet smooth and elegant. They cut through the orcs as if they were no more than children, and soon a litter of bodies lay around the pair.

Though however able they were to defend themselves; against such a huge enemy their hope seemed to dwindle and fade. Yet they fought on, even should death have been the end result the Edhil would have died honourably, died triumphant. And so the powered on; desperate thrusts and determined blocks they were a force to be reckoned with.

So it continued, with the number of elves growing slimmer with every passing moment. Defeat seemed imminent, yet still they battled on viciously: defying death itself. Just as the last rays of sun disappeared below the trees, seeming to take any hope the Edhil had with it, arrows pierced the air; each embedding in the neck of an unsuspecting orc. In the stunned stillness that followed the attackers leapt deftly down from their perches into the battle raging below.

A renewed hope coursed through the veins of all the Edhil, and with a last reserve of strength they had not realised they had the battle recommenced. Glints of golden hair now could be seen among the warriors; interspersing the darker locks. Both sun and moon fought continuously on; two separate kingdoms united against a common foe.

Eventually the orcs were all dispatched; their harsh, guttural cries dying in their throats to be forever silenced. The first born looked upon the scene with satisfaction mingled with regret. Adrenaline flowed through the veins of all survivors; and the injured were swiftly treated as best as was possible.

Solemnly, the bodies were separated. It was with heavy hearts that the elves were laid to rest in the shallow graves they had dug; and with disgust that the carcasses of their enemies were set aflame. Heads bowed in sorrow; the elves set up camp.

Initially the elves were divided: wood elves camped together and the elves from the hidden vale stayed in their own company. But these differences were set aside in light of the battle.

The elves looked on in ill-disguised intrigue as the leaders discussed the battle; and a temporary treaty. Though having little differences other than hair and eye colour; their differences could be found within. All Elves were slim built; with their fragile and delicate appearances belying the strength lying within their slight yet muscular frames. Their hair reflected the pale light of the moon overhead, giving a luminescent glow to the clearing. The Wood Elves of Greenwood and Noldor Elves of Rivendell had not encountered each other in several centuries, and their ill at ease with each other was apparent to the eyes of any creature.

"Amras. On behalf of my people, I extend my thanks towards you." Declared Glorfindel, clearly uneasy and overly formal with one whom he used to consider a friend.

"Why so formal, mellon?" Amras replied, though the answer was obvious. When no reply greeted his inquiry, Amras felt his heart sink. It was true; there had been a rift between their peoples for many a century, but he had not expected it to extend to their long friendship.

Clearing his throat loudly to dispel any embarrassment, Amras continued "We will always be of service to you. You may stay here as long as you wish, or if you would prefer accompany us to our home. The decision is yours." And with that Amras left, his back silhouetted in the pale moonlight. Yet another casualty of a war much varied from the violent battle they had just engaged in.

Glorfindel shook his head sadly. It was wrong of him to treat Amras so, but he must obey his commands. His thoughts drifted not for the first time that day to a happier time; when the first born were not separated by doubt and mistrust; but where friendships could grow and encompass all in the comfort they offered. He was not alone in wish this feud over, but like so many others seemed powerless to end it.

And so the elves were once again separated; and thoughts turned to sleep. Eyes clouding over and losing their focus as was the usual when entering elven dreamscape; the night progressed without further incident and the elves slept soundly.

They awoke at dawn, as was their wont, refreshed and content. The elves of Rivendell decided that it would be wisest to accompany the wood elves to their homes since supplies were running low. With this decided the elves recalled their steeds and mounted them bareback; with no need of any harness to control the free creatures.

Amras took up the front as leader of the wood elves, closely followed by Glorfindel. The ride back was uncomfortable and awkward for the two. Amras attempted a few stuttered sentences at increasing intervals; but cut off before finishing any sentences of making any distinct sense. With the two unwilling to converse freely, the feeling soon passed through the ranks and by sundown when they again made camp the entire party were silent.

Another awkward night followed, with the party separating once more into their respective groups. The wood elves took it in turns to keep watch; their backs straight and eyes alert for any signs of danger even in the darkness.

Dawn approached slowly; and the elves awoke slowly; obviously having had a troublesome sleep; their bad feeling towards each other seeping into their dreams and tainting them.

Not as refreshed as the previous day they set out again none the less. Taking only short breaks more for the horses than the extremely long enduring elves they carried on steadily until sunset.

When they made camp again the Rivendell elves noticed the increased density of the overhead forest. With no moonlight able to penetrate the dense trees, the elves slept on through the night.

Dawn was hardly recognisable, and only the elves innate body clock awoke them. Streams of sunlight filtered through the branches above, streaking the floor and allowing only minimal light to travel by.

This distressed the horses from the Hidden Vale, who were unaccustomed to such conditions and unwilling to travel through the darkness. Only the soothing word of their riders convinced the horses to tread through it; and even then at a slow pace.

So they journeyed for many nights; seeming to follow no definite route so that the Noldor elves were utterly lost. However; on the 6th day of travel Glorfindel met again to discuss matters with Amras.

"It is unfair that only your people take watch. Allow us to help you, in repayment for your services in battle." Glorfindel suggested. Amras stood, shocked, routed to the spot. What could have been mistaken for fire flashed through his eyes, in what could only be described as the feeling of betrayal.

"You owe us nothing. We do not wish for your assistance simply to repay a debt you feel you have. The orcs are as much our enemy as they are yours, and as such you are under no obligations." He said as calmly as possible, though his voice held a faint and unusual tremor and his fists balled tightly at his sides.

Turning on his heel to leave, Glorfindel surprised the both of them by reaching out and holding him back. "I did not mean to cause offence. We merely wish to help in any way we can; after all you have given us so much." He pleaded; his pale blue eyes seeking out those of Amras.

"As you wish. It is a kind offer; and would be greatly appreciated." Amras replied icily, finally shrugging himself free of Glorfindel's hold with a sharp movement.

And so it was. The Noldor and Wood Elves shared the watch between themselves evenly. It was in the mist of these watches that two pairs of eyes locked: stormy grey meeting with clear blue across the battle field.


	2. Mae Govannen 2: Ernil Daur

AN: Thanks for the reviews. Hope you enjoy this one, and sorry it took so long.

I forgot to put a glossary at the end of the first chapter; so here you go:

Glossary:

Taur Galen – Green wood

Edhil – Elves

Ithil – Moon

Anor – Sun

Mellon – friend

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Legolas was unexplainably drawn to those eyes; harsh as the storm yet soft as the clouds. They sparkled with energy and wit even in such tiring conditions; and the world seemed to halt. But the moment passed as quickly as it had occurred; leaving Legolas to shake his head clear of those mysterious eyes.

Camp activity buzzed around them; lighting the fire from dead wood found on the forest floor and merry talk passing the time. Legolas took up his position in the branches of a great tree; as he was first on watch duty. Sitting idly he glanced into the distance, one leg hanging and the other bent upon which his elbow rested.

And so the hours passed; with Legolas rarely moving. His thoughts wandered to recent events; his homeland which they were nearing; and yet in the back of his mind he was constantly aware of everything happening around him.

It was with a great deal of surprise, then, that he was tapped gently on the shoulder. Startled; he turned to face whoever it was that had surprised him so and found himself looking into the same mysterious eyes as before.

No. They weren't the same eyes; but remarkably similar. Gathering his thoughts; Legolas thanked whoever it was that had relieved him and in one swift action swung down onto the branch below.

And with that he was gone; swiftly finding a place near the dying fire to lie and sleep. He lay on his back, with no need of a blanket to protect him from the elements; as was usual considering his Elven heritage.

Entering dreamscape of sleep; his thoughts blurred into one: confused; without order or any seeming connection or relation. But throughout the dreams one face recurrently appeared; one pair of eyes. And they haunted him.

o0o

The trees eventually began to clear and form a narrow path; so dark and shrouded in shadow from the low trees above that it more resembled a tunnel than a forest path. The Imladris horses warily followed the path; ears back and the soft, gentle encouragement of their riders stirring them onwards. The Sindarin horses, however, were much more forward going and at ease within the dense canopy of trees; showing their familiarity with the surroundings and deep trust of their mounts.

And thusly they continued, and the party from the Hidden Vale glancing curiously around them. The trees were of the deepest green, and though the foliage cast a shadow upon the path the sunlight was seen to filter through in streams; and dapple the path. The light of Anor shining through the leaves made them shimmer and intensified the green so that it was breathtakingly luminous and healthy looking. The forest around them stirred with a life of its own; the birds singing and the breeze whispering; a life that the Wood Elves of Taur Galen were very much a part of.

This connection was impossible to describe; best likened to a string linking the forest with the Wood Elves. This string gently fluxuated and strummed; fading into the background of the Edhil senses but always perceptible. Of course all Firstborn share a connection with nature; but this connection was stronger in the more elemental, primitive Elves of Greenwood the Great. Their spirits unharnessed because of their separation from other Elven communities; their primitive senses un-dulled because there was no surety of protection given by the Three Rings; their natural intuition not second guessed by years of study and learning. No, these Elves retained all that was natural by way of their seclusion.

Whereas the Elves hailing from Imladris were well-learned; less in tune with the forests because of their detachment from them; but none the less were indeed greeted warmly by the wood. These two Elven parties were completely opposite; and yet the same; like the two sides of a coin. Both could learn from the other; and neither was wrong; but both simply followed a different way of living because of centuries of habit.

Deeper they delved into the forest; following the narrow path. It was impossible to tell exactly when the Rivendell Elves became aware of the hidden scouts surrounding them; as it seemed to be a consciousness that crept up on them and gradually took hold. It was more the implacable Elven sense than an actually physical disturbance. As they scanned the trees with fascination; they were amazed to find that they could not spot any of the elves; though they knew them to be there. Even the trackers amongst the party were astounded by the stealth of the Wood Elves as they avoided detection.

o0o

T.A. 348, Úrui, Taur Galan

"My greetings to you; Elrondians." The King of Taur Galen greeted the Gwenyn of Imladris somewhat haughtily; his displeasure at their arrival barely concealed behind his diplomatic front.

The Elves stood now in a great hall at the centre of the hidden palace. Light flowed in through the open windows; and looking past the many leaves of the tree branches you could see for miles, the stretching forest laying beneath you like a giant canvas of green to any but the Elven eyes staring out at it.

The settlement of Las Galan was intricately built into many trees; with the main palace intricately furbished into the largest, central tree. The many trees were connected with thin; winding bridges similar to that of Lothlórien if not for the fact that they were camouflaged; nestled within the branches. And so there were the lodgings of Taur Galan; with the royalty and nobleman living in the second and third storeys of the main tree; the Great Banquet hall; the kitchens; the universal washing rooms; the armoury; and the wine cellar on the ground storey of the main tree; and the private living quarters within the many trees connected.

Moving past this large residence one found that the training field lay in a central clearing north the main palace; leading out from the armoury. And to the south of the main palace lay the somewhat tamed public gardens: The main feature of which was the natural lake. Here the water shimmered a cool aqua and was still.

"May I ask what brings you to our forest domain?" Thranduil continued; imploring a worthwhile response from the unexpected visitors.

"Upon our recent hunting expedition; we ran afoul of the orcs and were saved by the timely arrival of your elves. Many of our supplies were lost in the battle; and we come in hope of replenishment and rest for our soldiers." Replied Elrohir; meeting the icy blue gaze of King Thranduil with his own determined, stormy gaze. Though the youngest of the twins; Elrohir was usually the less forth coming; the more negotiable; and though slow to anger, once kindled his wrath was terrifying to behold. Though today his piqued curiosity of his wondrous surroundings so different from his home had loosened his tongue and he now spoke freely to the King.

He held the gaze of Thranduil; daring him to refuse them these basic living necessities. With a weary sigh, Thranduil brought a hand up to his face and, bringing it down before his eyes, with a nod he acquiesced to their request. "Legolas." He whispered to the advisor beside him; who – bowing slightly to his King – left to fetch the mysterious Legolas.

"You and your warriors are free to stay here as long as you require. You may explore as you wish; and I shall have my son escort you to your housing. If you would like; he will accompany you on a tour of Lasgalen." He spoke regally; making it clear they were grudgingly welcomed as guests into his homeland; and were to stay and make use of any facilities.

Bowing slightly, the brethren extended their thanks to the King. "Many thanks, good King." Elladan offered as reply to his gracious invitation. Elladan; the older twin; was equally exuberant as Elrohir; and though less negotiable was the more likely to hold his tongue in matters of diplomacy. The words had not long left his lips when the Great Hall became almost silent. Turning to seek out the source of the quiet; the brethren found their eyes drawn to the figure entering.

The creature had long locks of interlocking gold and silver and blonde; his hair shining in the sun streaming through the many windows of the hall. His very skin, seemingly alabaster, glimmered with the sheath of health and exuberance; exuding life. His high cheekbones and strong jaw complimented his regal nose; lending an undeniably masculinity. Yet the softness of his face was obviously not from his father; something inherited from his mother. He was undeniably masculine; yet beautiful and enchanting as any elleth could ever hope to be.

His tall frame was slender and graceful; his very movements singular; yet the seemingly slender frame belied the toned muscles of a warrior; of an archer. He was a creature of perilous beauty which could ensnare the desire of any lucky enough to cross his path.

Shining out from under his delicately arched eyebrows were orbs of the softest blue; as calm and bright as a summer day. Sparkling in the depths of those eyes lay intelligence; exuberance; playfulness; a lust for life; freedom; wildness; nature; loyalty and – most surprising for any Edhil still in their first millennia of life – an ancient wisdom. He was a creature of perilous beauty which could ensnare the desire of any lucky enough to cross his path.

Elrohir found himself looking into those eyes; those same eyes as he had crossed in the camp. His gaze never leaving this creature; he was pleased yet not surprised when he approached the King. "May I introduce you to my son; Legolas." Thranduil exclaimed; pride emanating and warming his previously cool voice. Elrohir nodded; as if expecting it to be the case. The features of Legolas were noble and shared similarity with those of his father; and the way he carried himself bespoke of his royal birth.

Legolas. Elrohir rolled the name around his mouth; liking the way it rang like silver bells within the very confines of his mind. Legolas. Greenleaf. It was fitting for a prince of the forest realm; natural and soft yet unique and harsh. Elrohir eyed him with veiled curiosity; wanting very much to become better acquainted with him; and feeling a plan beginning to form.

Noting his brother's interest and recognising the ticking of his mind as a plan formed, Elladan greeted the prince on behalf of them both. "It is an honour; Ernilen." Elladan greeted the prince; as both he and Elrohir bowed in simultaneous motions.

Seemingly pleased with the diplomacy; Thranduil took his leave. "I trust you will be happy within my realm. Please; anything you need feel free to ask of my son." He stated; his voice taking on a tone of contentment and pride in the presence of his son. Elrohir shook his head imperceptibly as Thranduil exited; making a mental note to keep Legolas nearby whenever in the company of the King; as his youngest son obviously melted his otherwise cold reserve when around the Peredhil twins.

His attention; however; was quickly returned to Legolas. He was comely and seemed to glow with vibrancy. A smile breaking out across his face; Elrohir quickly decided that in Legolas they had found a friend unparalleled to any other.

"So, Ernil Daur…" He began; however was quickly interrupted.

"Legolas; please. There is no need for such formality around me." He modestly corrected. A smile once again quirked Elrohir's mouth up, and with a glance at Elladan he was sure that they had indeed found in this young prince a friend for life.

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Glossary:

Úrui – August (Sindarin)

Ernilen – My Prince

Ernil Daur – Forest Prince

Peredhil – Half Elven


	3. Mae Govannen 3: Summer Days

AN: Hey! Thanks for the reviews, sorry for the lack of updates. I blame my ever increasing work load; and some writer's block. So, sorry. Hope this makes up for it.

_**T.A. 348, Úrui, Taur Galan**_

Laughter like silver bells rang through the glades of Eryn Galen; emanating as usual from the Gwenyn of Imladris as they sat with Legolas. In Legolas; they had found not only an able guide willing to show them all the wonders of the magnificent woodland; but also a companion to share them with. And so they sat; each content in the present company; yet not totally relaxed. But a few days had passed since the troop from Imladris had arrived; and already plans were being made to leave the Woodland realm within the week.

This weighed heavily upon the minds of all three; and they were reluctant to part. Though they had known each other for the shortest period of time; they had already made firm friendships and the prospect of many years apart was a daunting and unwelcome one. But Elrohir still had a plan in mind; and if they must be parted then he was adamant that said parting should be eventful and memorable.

Smiling in contemplation of the turn his thoughts had taken; Elrohir's far away gaze was not missed on his brother; or indeed their new found friend. Sharing a knowing smile with their woodland friend; Elladan was the one to comment upon said look.

"What in arda are you planning, _tor nîn – _my brother ?" Elladan's words broke Elrohir's reverie; and he came back to reality with a start. His smile did not slip as he replied to his brothers' question.

"Why, _Gwaniuar" – _older twin – "nothing. I was merely reflecting upon the beauty of this woodland realm." He slipped in easily, causing Legolas to beam with pleasure at such praise of his home; the initial enquiry completely forgotten.

His brother, however, was harder to side step. But reflecting that some things were best left unsaid and knowing now not to be the time to corner his brother on the matter; Elladan also let the topic slide and was content to simply enjoy the moment.

o0o

"_Ada_" – papa – "Where is Las?" Asked Findecáno of his father. Thranduil's youngest looked up at his father earnestly; his green eyes inherited from his mother openly inquisitive. Smiling down at his son with tenderness reserved for family; the King told his young charge "Follow the sounds of merriment and laughter; and you shall find Legolas in the presence of the Gwenyn hailing from Imladris."

The youngest Prince was gone a moment later; a retreating back of chocolate hair rapidly vanishing from sight. With a smile; Thranduil took the time – as he did increasingly frequently – to thank the Valar for the children blessed to him; and heave a melancholy sigh as the bittersweet remembrances of his late wife were swept to the forefront of his mind once again.

'_She would be so proud'_ he thought to himself; and though it was little consolation for the loss it at least offered his heart some light relief from the pain and grief omnipresent; ever lurking, threatening to overtake him were it not for his beloved family and kingdom.

The fates had indeed been kind to this King; and he knew as much. But no amount of joy could ever hope to replace his true love; his Órelindë. His smile faded. It had but been a score of years since her death; and yet he still felt it as keenly as he had that first day; as he held her in his arms; watching the light vanish from her eyes; feeling her body become cold within his arms; sensing the long and brutal separation that was to come. It felt as if millennia had passed since that day; but they had brought no peace to his broken heart; no balm to his painful soul. With such thoughts threatening to overtake him; the King 

quickly shook his head and rose from his seat; deciding that his duties needed to be addressed. And so he left his banquet halls and headed for the Throne room, hoping to leave such despondent thoughts behind him. He hoped in vain.

o0o

"Las!"

The Gwenyn turned in time to see a small bundle leap onto his startled brother with a sharp and excitable exclamation. With smiles playing at their lips they watched in amusement as said bundle knocked his older brother to the floor; landing heavily atop him and forcing his breath out quickly.

Laughing silently; they helped the pair to their feet. Findecáno had an immutable energy and sense of mischief; which was of course healthily endorsed by his favourite brother.

"Las, why did you leave me?" He asked in a small, almost broken voice. Though now 20; the elves of course aged slowest of all Free Peoples of Middle Earth; and the young Elfling stood before the three friends had not yet mastered his brothers' name; instead calling him by the affectionate "Las".

Seeing that an apology was due if any hope of keeping the peace remained; Legolas bent down upon one knee so that he was level with his younger brother.

"We were simply enjoying a picnic; and did not wish to wake you. Come, cheer up tor neth – _young brother - _and sit with us." The look of hurt slowly ebbed from the child's eyes, to be replaced by a look of joy at being invited to join their picnic. Without further ado; he took his place – next to his favourite brother, of course – and helped himself to multiple pastry delights and other such food.

Smiling indulgently at his younger brother, Legolas smiled in wistful reminiscence. '_So very alike my mother.'_ He thought; reflecting the previous contemplations of his own father. The hair and eyes indeed could not be mistaken; so similar did they seem to their late mother, who had died during childbirth of Findecáno, giving her own life that her son may live. Having him so near was a blessing and a curse, for though he had a character entirely of his own, his image so resembled his mothers' that it was enough to take the breath away from Legolas.

He too sought to dispel such melancholy thoughts; instead focusing upon the beauty of the day; and the pleasant company with which he whiled away the hours. And so they sat; Thranduil's two youngest sons with Elrond's only twins; enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun as it warmed the clearing.

Glossary:

Taur Galen – Green Wood

Úrui - August

Eryn Galen – Greenwood the Great


	4. Mae Govannen 4: Parting

However they may wish to prolong their stay at the mercurial Woodland realm; the time soon came for the departure of the Rivendell troop; much to their displeasure. After so long a sundering; it had been lively and enchanting to see again – or, for many, for the first time – the dwellings of the Sindarin Elves. As beauteous and cultured as The Hidden Vale was; it pained them to leave the natural beauty and splendour of Las Galen for the long ride back to their homeland. Such thoughts were shared equally by most of the Woodland inhabitants; and even the King took pleasure in the sight of his golden son enjoying their company; free from the usual restraints of rank and appearance, he had no need to temper his true self and could, at long last, be himself.

But come did the day when they would once again be sundered, although this time would hopefully prove to be less indefinite. Strong friendships had been forged by many; and the separation was only to be endured by constant reassurances of regular visits and meetings between friends.

One elf, however, did look upon the scene unmoved. Thranduil's eldest – and therefore heir to the throne –had met none that had struck any such friendship with him, and as such cared little for the leaving of the troop. It was not that he was unsociable, or uncaring – though his emotions seemed not to run as deeply as his two younger brothers – but that he had been trained as an Elfling to prioritise his responsibilities over all else, else how could he successfully manage an entire Kingdom?

Thranduil could do naught but sigh exasperatedly and shake his head. Too long had the crown prince held himself aloof, he thought. For such was Lenwë's disposition that he would willingly forego the company of others; often working late into the night studying; researching; improving. To be determined is one thing, and to be so absorbed by that is a road to loneliness.

And yet it had not always been the case. Though not as outgoing as his other siblings; Lenwë had once been keeper of a close circle of friends with whom he would spend his time. But as time passed – and Thranduil was not entirely certain when he became aware of this – his duties as heir to the throne had dulled his youthful companionship; with the responsibilities of running a Kingdom instead becoming his priority. So it had been since; and for this Thranduil would always blame himself. Perhaps if he hadn't pushed his son so hard; or maybe if he had noticed his increasing isolation sooner. But such thoughts are useless; and hardly in keeping with the merry – if poignant – spirit of the Woodland Realm.

oOo

Meanwhile, plots were being devised and belongings packed before the long trek home to Rivendell. The stay had been a peaceful one; where friends had been made and peace had been established between long sundered realms. It truly was a fated accident; and Elrohir thought as much while awaiting the arrival of his twin.

He heard light footsteps approaching the door; and with a smile on his face slung his travel bag over his shoulder, stepping out of their shared room to meet his brother.  
"The powder?" He inquired, surreptitious glances assuring there was no-one within hearing range. Elladan smiled in response; pointing to his own bag. A fleeting laugh and clap on the back were exchanged for a plan – if simple – well thought through. Now all that remained was to put it into action.

oOo

Findecáno waited behind the many oak trees of the Greenwood; crouched in an innocent readiness to pounce upon his unsuspecting victims. He waited for what seemed like hours to his young legs; and when they eventually grew tired he gave up and instead sat cross legged, huffing his annoyance.

No longer had he let down his guard than there he was enveloped in a tight embrace from behind; lifted up into the arms of his stealthy brother with a small shriek of surprise and excitement.

"No fair, Las." He said, crossing his arms over his body in annoyance and stomping his foot. "I was supposed to surprise you this time!" His little voice laced with irritation and a pout formed upon his face. It was something he could not maintain for long, however. He never could hold a grudge against his favourite brother, even for something as terrible as stealing his thunder.

No sooner had a smile broken out upon Findecáno's face; than he was immediately swept up into the air again; another small shriek breaking the silence. This time; he was not held in his brother's strong arms; but in those of Elladan.

"Aagh, 'Lladan put me down!" He screamed, kicking his legs and balling his small hands into fists; giggling all the while. With a long suffering sigh; Elladan shrugged his shoulders in consent and, again, the Elfling was able to stand upon his own two feet.

"That was a nasty trick, 'Lladan." He scolded, and Elladan had the good grace – or perhaps common sense considering Findecáno's stubborn nature – to put on the mock appearance of shame, casting his eyes to the floor and shrugging his shoulders.

"Oh please, don't hurt him! We come in peace; my buffoon of a brother knows not what he does!" Elrohir appeared around the trees; and fell dramatically to his knees; begging for forgiveness from the scary Elf child. Elladan followed suit; and Findecáno began to giggle at their antics.

With a long suffering sigh and an eye roll; Legolas reached down and brought the twins to their feet. "Just make it the last time; our Elf Lord does not tolerate unexpected attacks!" He uttered in mock seriousness; joining in the charade.

And so they passed the few hours they had left in each other's company; with much merriment and laughter and childish antics.

oOo

"'Rohir, do you and 'Lladan really have to go?" asked a small voice, eyes downcast, and heart heavy. With a sigh, Elrohir sat up, looking sympathetically at the youngest prince.

"You know we must, Cunneth. Ada awaits us at home, and if we stay much longer I fear we will lose all will to leave at all." His voice was sincere, but still could not balm the youngling's hurt at the thought of their leaving.

In just that one short exchange, the atmosphere changed. The wind picked up; cold and strong; the sun was covered by cloud and the very trees themselves seemed hurt; swaying and moaning in the wind as though sensing the overlong separation and sadness it would inflict.

And so they lay there; no longer enjoying the ease that comes with a natural friendship and understanding; but instead drinking in the last moments of each other's company and contemplating the return to normality. It had seemed so distant these past weeks; like a lonely lifetime past.

And though the wind was bitterly cold for the autumn and the sun had set; they made no effort to move. Their Elven endurance was enough to see them through, and when Findecáno began to shiver Legolas sat up to cradle him in his arms; wrapping him in his own warmth and keeping the chill at bay.

Elrohir's eyes moved to study Legolas; and he could see the same look of hurt in those cerulean orbs. Feeling that he was being watched; Legolas raised his head to meet Elrohir's stare. And again eyes as grey as the storm met those of clearest skies. They held the glance; and each found comfort to ease the parting they would soon face.

oOo

Dawn light found its way through the dense enclosure of Taur Galen; and as the sun rose high in the sky the contingent of Elves hailing from Imladris sat above their noble steeds; ready to begin the journey back to their own homes.

All, that was, except certain raved haired twins. Glances were exchanged and looks of bemusement coloured faces: it was unlike the Gwenyn to be late. The court officials and Royal family of Eryn Galen stood in the morning light; seemingly as perplexed as everyone else. Even Legolas must claim his ignorance in this matter; and so they continued to wait on diminishing patience.

Eventually the tardy pair arrived; smiles sketched upon their faces and a gleam in their eyes. Legolas cocked one elegant eyebrow: whatever delayed these two bode ill for someone, he was sure. Seeing the suspicion written upon their friend's face; the smiles of Elladan and Elrohir erupted into large grins; flashing pearly teeth in a look of feigned innocence. This only served to make Legolas nervous; sure now that whatever delayed the twins was best left unknown.

While Elladan continued to smile demonically; Elrohir went so far as to wink at Legolas; and the Prince of the Woodland Realm was sure he could feel a headache beginning to form.

"Do not worry, Malthernil. There is no possible way they could suspect you for this." Elrohir whispered in Legolas' ear while making a final goodbye. This was less than comforting; and the look upon Legolas' face read as much. With a smirk, Elrohir pulled the prince into a tight embrace, and no words were necessary to convey the love he held for his new friend.

The Brethren quickly and agilely mounted their waiting horses; just as voices could be heard approaching the clearing. With a glance at each other, the Gwenyn hurriedly encouraged their horses into a canter; signalling for their company to follow. The reason soon became apparent; as the kitchen staff entered the clearing – knives and ladles in hands – screaming murderously at the retreating backs. It seemed the twins had seen fit to gift the staff with a leaving present shortly before their departure in the form of itching powder. How they had managed to affect all the staff simultaneously without actually being in the location was to be wondered at for many years; and Legolas knew that his headache was well deserved.

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Glossary:

_Gwenyn – twins_

_Gwenyn – twins_

_Cunneth – princeling _

_Ada – papa_

_Eryn Galen – Greenwood the Great_

_Malthernil – golden prince_


End file.
